The Great and Secret Show
by MaisyVonMayhem
Summary: Alex  my OC  and her apprenticeship to the King of the Crossroads. It will cover their relationship as it grows, her learning the trade, finding a niche for herself in Hell and her discovering more about who Crowley is, and was.
1. Chapter 1

AUTHOR NOTE: This originally started off as a Crowley/OC one-shot, based on an idea by Kinthinia, one of the kind souls who reads my one-shot series _Hell Is... _It's loosely based during the fifth series, and there will be some of the story involving the main plot of said series; however, much of it will be about Alex (my OC) and her apprenticeship to the King of the Crossroads. It will cover their relationship as it grows, her learning the trade, finding a niche for herself in Hell and her discovering more about who Crowley is, and was. It will contain mature content in later chapters. The title of the story is taken from a novel by Clive Barker (who I heartily recommend to anyone interested in reading fantastic, horrible, magical stories that twist the concepts of good and evil beyond recognition). Please review, read any of my other stories that you're interested in, and feel free to send me messages – these things make me happy.

Part 1: The Great Below...and the Mundane Escape.

Alex slapped her hand against the wall, it was smooth and warm beneath her fingertips. It was definitely real. Although the knowledge that she was really in Hell was disquieting to say the least, she'd imagined a lot worse. She'd imagined a fiery pit, with thousands of screaming, agonised souls destined to suffer their torment for eternity. Alex was simply pleased that, so far, nobody had started jabbing at her intestines with a very sharp knife; although, it was only her first day.

The sound of someone shouting greeted her as she rounded the corner. "Right, that's it, piss off!" This from a dark-suited, decidedly angry looking demon directed towards a younger man who threw his arms up in defence, as though the words were physically hurting him.

"Please, Crowley, I am absolutely the right man for this job. Give me another chance and I will not let you down. I can close any deal..." The younger man was wearing a fancy designer suit and had a fancy designer hairstyle to match.

The man in the dark suit sighed audibly and moved closer to the object of his irritation, "And it's Mr Crowley to you! You know what; all I asked for was a bit of...finesse. This job is not about intimidation, it's about charm, and persuasion. Most of all, it's about being a bloody good liar – which you're not. Now get out of my sight. You're fired!"

The designer clad youth walked away, shoulders slumped, looking, she supposed, about as lost as she did.

"Yes, can I help you at all?" More shouting from the man in the suit. She looked behind her, only to realise he was staring directly at her from where she had been peering around the corner.

Straightening up Alex walked towards him, smiling slightly, "No, just...passing through." As she got closer she felt a wave of familiarity hit her; she had a distant memory of having met him before at some point, but couldn't quite place where.

"Do I know you?" He stared at her with narrowed eyes as she drew level.

She shook her head, kept walking, dismayed to find that he'd fallen into step beside her. "I'm sure I do know you from somewhere; is it your first day by any chance?" He had his hands shoved in the deep pockets of his coat.

Alex sighed, "Yes. Although you should know, it was your deal." Crowley. Finally, she'd managed to place the name. The Crossroads demon she'd met a year ago.

He smiled, "Ah, I knew it! You're one of mine. Very good. How are you liking it so far?"

"Not really what I expected to be honest." He raised his eyebrows at her. "I thought there'd be more...torture."

He chuckled; a slightly ominous sound, "Oh, you were hoping for torture? That's...weird. Don't worry though, you just haven't met Alistair yet."

She shook her head, "I didn't say I was _hoping _for torture. I'd prefer not to be tortured in fact." She glanced at him, "Who's Alistair?"

"Someone you should really try to avoid." Abruptly he stopped walking, turned and then headed in the opposite direction, back the way they'd come, "Right, come on then."

Alex stared at his back as he walked. Noticing that she wasn't following he turned and shrugged, "Or, do you have something more important to do?"

She followed wordlessly for awhile. The path seemed to be veering to the right and upwards, sharply, and Alex found herself becoming short of breath. "Where are we going?"

He pointed ahead of them, at nothing seemingly except a long expanse of corridor, "Just up there. Not far."

She followed for such a long time that she began to think that Crowley might be a long lost ancestor of her ex, Shaun, who had insisted on taking them on long, unplanned walks in the countryside and would deflect any questions or insinuations that they were lost with, _Not far now. Just round this corner. _She followed for so long that the surroundings blurred around her.

"Here we are." Alex jumped at the sound of his voice. She looked around; they were standing on a tree-lined street in an obviously well-to-do neighbourhood. Huge houses with wide electronic gates stood well back from the road.

Alex blinked, "Did we just break out of Hell?"

Crowley shook his head, "No, we just kind of...strolled out, actually."

"I don't understand."

He sighed, "Well, since you were witness to my little...discussion with Jason earlier, you'll know that I'm in need of an apprentice, or should I say assistant? Or maybe minion, yes, I think I likes minion best."

Alex nodded, "Someone who's charming, persuasive and a bloody good liar. I remember."

He grinned, "Perfect! You'll fit right in."

She raised her eyebrows as he punched in a combination on the keypad by the side of a set of gates. He caught the confused expression, "This is where I live. You didn't really think I spend all my time down there did you?"

The gate swung open, slowly, and he held his arm out, "Shall we?" He looked at the gardens around them as he walked towards the house, "Well, at least I'll have something nice to look at for a change with you here, instead of that bloody idiot with the floppy hair do."

...

Alex looked around, wide-eyed, taking in the vast drawing room; books lined the walls and a vast fireplace glowed behind the desk where Crowley sat. "This is a nice house," she muttered, more to herself than to Crowley.

"Isn't it? The benefits of not being a total dogsbody in Hell. Drink?"

Alex accepted the glass he passed to her, continuing to stare at the pictures above the fireplace.

"Right, stop gawking. I need you to look through some documents. Just the usual contractual nonsense: I promise to teach you the skills involved in my little...trade and, in return for bloody hard work, you are hereby relieved from certain...obligations in Hell. Most notably, from being tortured."

Alex frowned, taking the pile of papers, "Right, ok, sure." She began to read.

Crowley picked up a pen and jabbed at a dotted line at the bottom of the page, "Just sign there. It's all above board. Promise."

She nodded and scrawled a signature before handing him the pen and papers back.

He raised his eyebrows, "Well?"

She sipped at the amber liquid in the glass he'd given her, "What?"

He smiled, "First rule of the Crossroads, darlin', a deal isn't a deal until..."

She shook her head, putting the glass down, "I'm not kissing you."

He looked genuinely disappointed, "Oh, go on!"

She stood up, suddenly afraid, the weight of her recent, gruesome death and her journey to Hell crashing down around her, "No. We're not at the Crossroads now, and you are my employer. Please act like it." She turned to walk from the room, but realised she had no idea where to go, "Where do I sleep?" Her voice sounded much weaker than she wanted it to.

Crowley looked disgusted, shuffling papers around on the desk, "Fine. I'm just trying to do you a favour, you know." He stood, walking over to a nearby counter to refill his drink. "As for sleeping, you go upstairs and pick a bed. If it happens to be mine I'll let you know about it later tonight. How's that sound?" He looked away, dismissing her.

...

Alex walked from room to room for awhile, before moaning in frustration and flopping down on the end of a bed. She wasn't sure why things had turned so bad; Crowley had seemed perfectly amicable earlier on, for a demon anyway. Things had definitely turned sour later on though, and the worst possible thing she could imagine was picking his room and having him tumble in drunk and angry in the middle of the night. She couldn't pick a room.

Sighing she made her way back down the corridor, down the winding staircase and back towards the drawing room. Crowley was still sitting at his desk when she peered round the door; he appeared to be studying a gun of some kind, seemed totally engrossed in it. She knocked quietly.

"What do you want? I thought you went to bed." He slurred slightly as he spoke to her.

She shrugged, walking towards the desk, "I was taught never to go to bed on an argument."

He gulped the rest of his drink down, "That's cute." Quickly, he flipped the gun towards her, "Do you know what this is?"

"A gun." Her voice was remarkably steady however, much to her dismay, his hand which was holding said gun in her face was not.

"Yes. Perceptive." He looked down for a moment, before placing the gun back in a box on the table. "Do you know why I brought you here?"

"You needed a ...apprentice?"

He nodded, "Yes. But more than that. I need a...replacement, in case something goes wrong. Someone I can trust, someone who'll keep the Crossroads in line."

She shook her head, "So, why did you choose me? You don't even know me."

He glared at her, "All the people I know have been in Hell a very long time. Like me. That's reason enough not to trust them."

"So, how am I different? I'm in Hell too."

He smirked, "It's your first day! You're not a demon, not even close. You're just a lost soul. I thought if I could get to you early..."

Alex swallowed back her growing concern, she'd obviously stumbled into something that was much greater than her, "Why do you need a replacement, Crowley?"

He looked at her properly then, blinking slightly to bring her back into focus. Maybe he'd chosen badly; she was just a girl, after all. He stared back down into his glass, "Because I may be about to do something that's going to get me into a lot of trouble." He chuckled, raising the glass and emptying it. Shakily he filled it again, before gesturing towards the door, "Your bedroom's third door on the left at the top of the stairs. 'Night."

He watched her go, still looking about pensively as if the walls might suddenly melt at any moment and she'd find herself back in Hell. Maybe this was an unwise choice; if he defied Lucifer then she'd most likely end up implicated too. There could be hundreds, thousands of demons out for her blood by the year's end if he went through with his plan.

Crowley swirled the liquid in his glass around before draining it for the last time that night. He shrugged to himself, "Can't be helped, I suppose."


	2. Into The Inferno

Part 2: Into the Inferno

Author Note: Please read and review!

Alex opened her eyes groggily, feeling her tongue dry and heavy against the roof of her mouth she instantly regretted accepting the drink she was given the previous night. Brandy had never agreed with her and the dull, persistent throbbing in her head only served to reiterate that fact. Sitting up gingerly, she rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, mesmerized slightly by the dancing lights and patterns that cavorted across her eyelids as she did. She looked around the room, noting the four-poster bed she was lying in as if for the first time and glaring sullenly at the arcs of sunlight stabbing through the heavy curtains. She groaned, pushing the covers aside and swinging her legs out of the bed; taking in her appearance she hoped that Crowley would not mind one of his employees looking somewhat dishevelled and crumpled. Opening the door and stepping into the corridor she was greeted by Crowley walking towards her, holding a cup. He looked her up and down, raised his eyebrows and handed the cup to her.

He studied her as she took it and smiled; even with the plum-coloured bruises under her eyes she looked endearing, he thought. Hell would eventually knock that right out of her. "Well," he watched her sip the drink, "I was going to ask how you slept, but I don't think I need to."

She didn't reply, simply rolled her eyes and carried on drinking. Crowley almost laughed at the audacity of the gesture. "Right, you need to get yourself ready. We have things to do today."

"Like what?"

His face was stern, "We need to go back to Hell. I should show you around." He turned his back, walking towards the stairs, "If you're going to work the Crossroads, you need to see what you're selling people into."

She waited for him in the study, scanning the rows of books and running her fingers across the leather bound spines as she moved along the shelves. Dante's_ The Divine Comedy, _Milton's _Paradise Lost_, Blake's _Marriage of Heaven and Hell_.

Crowley watched her as she looked at the books, noted how her lips moved as she whispered the titles to herself. The ones she was looking at now were some of the oldest he owned; he had bought them when he was still human, they were some of the first to make up his collection when he had begun his study of the occult, of Satan, of descent into Hell.

Alex ran her fingers over the depressions of gold ink where the title had been etched into the leather of _The Divine Comedy _and slowly drew it out from its space on the shelf. The ink inside was printed so thickly that she could almost _feel_ the letters beneath her fingers.

Crowley continued to gaze at her with interest, a shiver running along his spine as she started to read:

"Through me the way into the suffering city,  
>Through me the way to the eternal pain,<br>Through me the way that runs among the lost.  
>Justice urged on my high artificer;<br>My maker was divine authority,  
>The highest wisdom, and the primal love.<br>Before me nothing but eternal things were made,  
>And I endure eternally.<br>Abandon every hope, ye who enter here."

He stepped forward taking the book out of her hands, "We need to go."

She looked up at him, "Is it really like that? Hell."

Crowley nodded, "You'll see for yourself."

The first thing Alex noticed was the smell: sulphur. No matter how closely she pressed the sleeve of her jumper against her nose and mouth it managed to filter through, invading her nostrils, causing her eyes to water wildly. She coughed.

Crowley glanced at her, noticing a bead of liquid roll down her cheek, "Pleasant, isn't it?" He lowered his eyes back to the floor, firmly fixed on the path ahead of them. "Of course, you wouldn't have noticed it yesterday; we're deeper in than you were. If you'd kept on walking and not followed me, this is where you would have ended up."

There was no hint of sarcasm in her voice when she choked out, "Thanks."

He stopped at a door, placing his hand against the wood, feeling it creak and move. "You can take your hand away from your face now. It gets better from here on in, sulphur-wise anyway."

She dutifully lowered her hand and nodded her head at the door, "What's through there?"

"The second circle of Hell."

Alex raised an eyebrow at him, "Second?"

He jabbed a thumb in the direction they had come from, "Yes, the first circle is Limbo. Back that way. It's where I found you yesterday. It's very dull and very boring, and there's a lot to see behind this door. But, Alex..." he paused, staring at her, "you have to promise to stick to the path, to follow me. Technically, the contract you signed makes you exempt from becoming...lost, in any of the circles, but just to be on the safe side I need you to stay alert."

She nodded, eyes glued to the door in front of her.

Crowley shook his head, unsure whether his message was clear enough, "Alex, Hell is a cruel place. This, what you're going to see, will help you to...understand me better, I think."

She nodded again, "I'm ready. Show me."

He pushed against the door, hard, finally feeling it yielding and creaking inwards under his weight. Leading the way, he stepped through into the darkness.

Alex gasped, struggling to regain her footing as a gust of wind buffeted her backwards spraying cold, salt water into her face. Through slitted eyes she stared into the gloom, making out a deeper column of shifting, rotating darkness at the centre of the space. The sound coming from it was deafening, a loud howling, whirring sound that made her want to run back the way she had come; it was not thunderous enough, however, to muffle the unmistakeable human cries, shrieks of fear emanating from within its seething mass.

Crowley leaned closer to her, shouting over the noise, "It's basically a big hurricane, spinning forever. There are people inside it." He smirked slightly, "Quite funny really."

She turned to him, frowning, "But, why?"

He shrugged, "Eternal torment. In life the people in there were constantly flitting about governed by the...swirling tempest of their emotions, their wants and lusts. In death they'll continue to do the same thing, in a manner of speaking. It's dramatic irony."

The sound grew louder as the column of air span closer, closer to the path that she and Crowley were precariously perched on. She could see them now, men and women trapped inside, the wind jerking their limbs from side to side at unnatural angles. Some of them reached out, desperately, futilely, wailing for help. Alex felt Crowley's hand on her arm, "We should move on."

She nodded, eyes still glued to the dark tower in front of her for a moment, before they began edging their way around the narrow path. The wind seemed to follow them as they walked, tugging at their clothing, threatening to suck them in.

Crowley turned to her as leaned against the next door, "I wonder which level you would have ended up in, if I hadn't found you." His voice was friendly, whimsical, as though his musing was a perfectly natural comment to make.

Alex shook her head, still distracted by the roaring gale behind them, "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

The next room was also dark, but the air here was still and the stench of decay and putrefaction hung in the atmosphere like a cloud. A thin, greasy rain fell from above them, falling to the floor in warm, steaming pools. All around were bodies, naked, grotesquely malformed; some with huge patches of decayed and ulcerated skin adorning their limbs.

Crowley's voice was quiet now, almost reverent, "This is where we keep the gluttons, people who gave in to all kinds of excesses in life." He looked at her pointedly, "I spent some time here when I first came to Hell. Maybe I'll show you the scars at some point."

She frowned, "Scars from what?"

His voice became even quieter as he scanned the room, edgily, "There's a Hell Hound, Cerberus, he lives here. He walks around constantly, tearing people open every so often. They heal, then he does it again. Forever, unless you're very lucky."

Alex closed her eyes, remembering the feeling of her own flesh tearing, rendered into a new form by claws and teeth she couldn't even see. She shivered.

Crowley nodded at her, about to say something else. His eyes flicked to a spot just behind her, "Time to go." He began walking, dragging her towards another door.

Glancing over her shoulder, Alex could see nothing but she was dimly aware of a low growling sound which echoed against the walls surrounding them.

Crowley grimaced as they reached the door, turned back, "Get back, you bloody mutt! We're exempt. Exempt! Do you understand?"

Through the next door, Alex walked a short distance only to find she was standing at the top of a great, rolling hill. Along its incline were men and women each engrossed in pushing what appeared to be heavy boulders up and down the slope. She frowned and turned to Crowley, who smiled slightly.

"Greed. These people wasted their lives in pursuit of material possessions, wealth, status. Their punishment is to spend eternity in pursuit of a similarly meaningless goal; getting the boulder up and down the hill as many times as possible." He peered into the distance. "I've spent time here too."

Alex stared at him, "Is there any circle of Hell you _haven't _spent time in?"

He laughed and shrugged, almost apologetically, "Very few, darlin'. What can I say? I'm a sinner." He began to walk down the hill, pointing into the distance, "Up ahead is the River Styx. That's Level 5, somewhere, you'll be pleased to hear, that I've never had the pleasure of spending much time."

She was aware that he continued to talk as they walked down the hill, like some kind of macabre tour guide, however her attention was on one of the men who had stopped pushing his boulder and now seemed to be staring at them intently. Her heart thudded dully against her ribcage as recognition hit her; she reached out, tugging at Crowley's sleeve and pointing at the man, "Isn't that...Jason was it? You're old apprentice?"

Crowley smiled and threw a mocking wave at the boy, "So it is."

Alex took in his appearance; suit dishevelled and stained with sweat and blood, hair hanging around his face in wet clumps, skin baked by an overwhelming heat emanating from somewhere above them. She looked back at Crowley who shrugged.

"This is not my fault, darlin'. He's no longer working for me so he came back to Hell. This is just his circle."

She shook her head, "What did he do that was so bad?"

Crowley smirked and turned, commencing his walk down the hill, "He was a banker."

As they approached Alex saw a small dock with a boat bobbing gently on the river's surface. Crowley waved his arm at the view in front of them, "This is the River Styx. We have to cross here to get to the city."

She nodded, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his back. She grimaced at the sound of flesh meeting bone, a dull groan of pain and then the sharp crack of body against body. The river's banks were teeming with people fighting, tearing and hitting each other, gouging at each other's eyes, gnawing through each other's flesh with their teeth. She followed Crowley as he stepped onto the boat, made small talk with the oarsman for a moment. She looked at him, "What are these people doing?"

He looked around, "Fighting. These are the wrathful; the angry and violent. We keep them here because they'd only cause trouble in the city." He turned to look at the towers, iron walls rising in front of them.

Alex tugged at his jacket sleeve again, "Does Satan live in the city?"

He laughed, "No."

They entered through an incongruously small door carved into the side of the city; it opened onto a vast field stretching back as far as the eye could see. Dotted around were huge mausoleums, each one lit up like a bonfire with flames and acrid black smoke pouring out. The smoke filled her lungs, making her chest tighten. She held her arm up to her nose again, "This isn't a city Crowley. It's just a field."

He rolled his eyes, "Please, some people are never impressed. What were you expecting? Posh restaurants and trendy wine bars?"

She shook her head, walking forwards, "What's in the tombs? Why are they on fire?"

He rubbed his hands together as he stared at her, "Blasphemers. Those who in life did not believe in God or an afterlife. The tombs lead down to the pit, you've probably heard of it; fiery torment and torture for eternity." He moved closer to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear as she cast her eyes about, "Also, just FYI, anyone who makes a Crossroads deal ends up here for at least a little while."

Alex closed her eyes, shook her head, "But, I did believe in God, Crowley. At least I tried to. I prayed, often, and he didn't answer." She felt bitterness rise in her throat, "How is it right to punish people who turn away from you, when you give them no reason to believe?"

Crowley looked at her, taken aback for a moment, "Faith. Blind faith and delayed gratification, love. That's what Heaven's all about. Don't take it personally."

"I made the deal for good reasons. I made it to save someone else. How can that be so wrong? If I wasn't working for you..."

He nodded, "You'd be here." He looked around them, "But you wouldn't be alone. You wouldn't be the only one who doesn't _deserve_ what they're getting."

Alex realised she'd chewed so hard on the inside of her cheek that there was blood on her tongue, metallic and salty. She shook her head again, "This isn't right."

He sighed and placed a hand on her arm, "Come on." Sensing her resistance he moved closer, placing his face close to hers, "I need you to follow me. We can talk about what's right and wrong at home. For now, you are my apprentice and I need you to act like it. If there's even the slightest hint that you're not the right person for this job I'll drag you straight back here and you can rot like Jason and all the others. Is that clear?"

She looked at him then, really looked at him; his eyes were black and glazed and now, as she thought about how long he'd spent in various circles of Hell before becoming what he now was, she could understand the waves of anger that rolled off him. How could anyone not be angry about this?

He turned his back, began to walk across the fields, weaving between the mausoleums, "Next is Level 7. If you think this isn't right, wait till you see what's coming."

Crowley fell silent in front of her as they walked slowly around the edge of a small island. Crowded on this small spit of land were countless people and the sound of their screams, cries, shouted prayers to God, were enough to make her want to cover her ears. At her feet the river boiled; the liquid filling it not clear but thick and red. A river of blood. Suddenly Crowley was by her side, "They can't leave the island." He pointed upwards, and she gasped. Perched above them on small outcrops of rock were hideous, twisted winged creatures; their body's sharp and angular, bones sticking out horribly and their wings scything the air around them as they trained bows on the naked bodies below them. "They're angels. The ones who fell with Lucifer."

Alex nodded, turning her head away from them, "What did these people do?"

"They're murderers, tyrants, war criminals."

She considered this for a moment. Was it right to punish people who had lived their lives causing others so much pain? She remembered before she died watching the news on television and wondering how some people could be so cruel to others. She had wondered why they were allowed to get away with it. Now she had her answer; they paid for their crimes in the afterlife.

Crowley nodded at her, and then walked away, "Last level. Come on."

She shook her head, confused for a moment before she caught up to him, "Wait, you said this was seven. So, there are two more levels, right?"

He spun around, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer, "There is one more level. We're not going to the ninth circle."

Alex shrugged, wincing slightly at the pain in her wrist, "Whatever you say."

He let go, glancing down at the small, white crescent moon shapes visible on her skin where his nails had dug into her, "Fine. Follow me."

She followed in silence, casting a final glance back at the island and the monstrous winged figures towering over them.

Walking through the final door, Alex found she was staring down at a vast stage. All around were stone seats, which encircled the stage.. The seats were empty at the moment and the silence was profound. As she peered closer she noted that the floor of the stage was stained, black, brown and, mostly, red.

Crowley watched her, "This is the Malebolge. You can think of it kind of like a giant Multiplex; the best for Friday night entertainment in Hell." When she said nothing Crowley clarified, watching her face carefully, "It's a live torture arena, basically. Demons come here to watch and, sometimes, they bring along souls they want to torture in front of other people. Most of the souls here are those who dabbled in the occult, witches and the like." His voice became quieter as he spoke, "Sometimes, though, the demons that come here like to search the other lower circles for victims."

He moved closer to her; put his arm on her wrist again, gently this time, "A lot of people from the Crossroads end up here."

Alex held her breath; entertaining for a moment the horrible thought that Crowley had tricked her, that this had all been some ruse to get her here.

"A lot of people from the Crossroads are like you." He continued. "Relatively good people who get caught in a bad situation and turn to the wrong people for help." Her skin was cold under his hand, and he wondered how much of it was caused by fear and how much she was able to sense just how close they were to the very core of Hell, a place furthest removed from the source of all light and warmth. "They stumble out of the Pit, broken, tired, riddled with wounds. Easy prey for any passing demon."

She nodded, "Like you?"

He looked at the stage, "Yes. In the past."

Alex looked away from him, "I'd like to go now, if that's ok."

Crowley looked around for awhile, "Of course." He turned to her, "I told you Hell is a cruel place. It changes people; I wasn't a nice person while I was alive, but it's nothing compared to what I've become." He let his hand drop from her arm, "It's why I needed you, someone who hasn't been around any of _this _for too long. You can still make decisions based on right and wrong." He turned and walked away from her, "I barely understand what those words mean any more."


	3. La Mer

La Mer

The sun was partially hidden behind a bank of clouds by the time they reached Crowley's home. Alex sat on the large leather sofa, staring into the crackling log fire, watching small sparks fly into the air and burst like miniature fireworks.

Crowley stared at her, pondered for a moment, before decanting some of his best Scotch into a crystal carafe and seating himself beside her. He poured himself a drink, glancing surreptitiously at her, "Drink?"

She shook her head; she already felt numb enough without pouring more of that rot-gut down her throat.

The demon shrugged, feeling strangely ill at ease, and let some of the liquid slide down his throat. "Fine, suit yourself. " He let the events of the day filter back into his mind slowly, trying to remember a time when he was human, trying to imagine how it had felt when he had been new and just learning. He failed. "So, if you fancy a bed time story, I can go and pull out Dante again. You seemed interested earlier on."

Alex let a small smile creep across her lips despite herself, "Can I change my mind about that drink, please?" She turned her gaze to Crowley, who nodded and reached for the Scotch. She took the glass from him, noting the fancy crystal ware, and let the liquid burn down her throat. She closed her eyes as she swallowed, "I can't do this."

Crowley placed his glass down on the side-table, turning towards her, "I thought I'd perhaps gone too far in telling you that I actually enjoyed the whole torturing, maiming, killing thing. In anticipation of this, I hope you don't mind, I've prepared a short speech."

She stared at him, no sign of fear or despair or pain on her face. And he hated her for it.

He grabbed her forearms, shaking her, "Don't be so bloody stupid!"

Alex smiled, draining the last of the amber liquid from her glass, "Why did you do it?"

"Excuse me?"

She stared at him, momentarily, before drawing her arm back and hurling her glass at the wall, "Tell me how you ended up in Hell." She felt a tear roll down her cheek, "I want to know whether you deserved it. I want to know what it was that I did that was so wrong. Why did you make the deal with me?"

"It's what I do, love."

"If you understood what it feels like to be here because you were trying, to the best of your ability, to help someone else then you wouldn't have made the deal with me. You wouldn't have put me through this." She stood up, walking towards the drinks table, holding her hand up as if to swipe the contents onto the floor, "Tell me!"

"Fine!" Crowley shouted. He stared past her, at the fire, "I'll tell you what I can remember; it's not much. I did what I did because I loved someone too much. I was married once; her name was Elizabeth. She was everything to me." He paused, looked down at his half empty glass, "You won't understand, but, I was so poor, so desperate to impress her. And I did, eventually. When she smiled at me it felt like everything would be ok." He shrugged, "But, she got sick. Tuberculosis."

Alex nodded, "I'm sorry..."

"I made the deal to save her. My soul in ten years so that she could live on and raise our son." He shook his head, "But, the demon lied. She died anyway and I was left to raise him. He looked so much like her. I hated him."

He paused, still not looking at her, "That's why I started working the crossroads. I wanted reform." Finally, he raised his eyes, "At least now it's fair."

Alex screwed her eyes shut, trying not to let it get to her; to no avail. She flew towards him, barely registering her own actions, bringing her fists down on him repeatedly, as quickly as she could, and not caring where they landed.

Crowley let her hit him, the bruises and scratches she was inflicting making him feel strangely better than he had in a long while. Finally, she grew tired of it and pushed herself away from him, "Take me back. I can't work with you."

He shook his head, standing up and walking towards her, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her face towards his, "Don't make me do this."

She sighed, "I've made my decision."

The demon nodded, leaning closer, looking for the entire world like he was about to kiss her. "Maybe it's for the best, "he muttered, "I was going to betray you anyway. "

Alex backed away, "What do you mean?"

Crowley walked away from her, headed towards his desk. He rummaged in one of the drawers for awhile, before pulling out the gun he had been contemplating the first night she'd been there. Slowly, he walked towards her and placed it against her chest, "This gun can kill Lucifer. At least, I think it can."

Alex nodded, swallowing slightly as she felt the cool metal against her breast.

He pushed it against her harder, "I'm going to give it to some people who want Lucifer dead."

She nodded again, "Ok."

Crowley frowned, backing away slightly, "Ok? Are you for real?"

Alex shook her head, holding her hands above her head in surrender, "Hey, look, new to Hell here. Don't understand a damn thing that's going on."

He smiled, dropping the gun and quickly stowing it away in the drawer he'd pulled it from. He held his arms open, "Look, you don't have to make any decisions now. Stay. At least for a week. Then decide."

She nodded, once, and then turned, "I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Just so you know, your sister is still alive. I honoured our deal."

Alex stopped, her breath catching in her throat. She turned to stare at the demon, "Is she happy?"

He smiled, "Yes."

Alex bit her lip, stepped towards him slightly and then thought better of it, "Thank you." She dipped her head slightly at him, before leaving the room.


	4. Cruel Intentions

Cruel Intentions

Alex lay with her head against the pillows, listening intently to the soft scratching noise coming from beneath her room and then the muffled thud of footsteps moving into the house. She wondered momentarily whether it was Crowley, whether he was still up and moving around; but the footsteps had a furtive quality to them that someone walking around their own house would not feel the need to display. She pushed the bedclothes aside and headed towards the door, pulling a cardigan around her shoulders as she went. Alex peered around the heavy doorframe, glancing to the left and right along the empty corridor, reassuring herself that the footsteps were indeed coming from downstairs. She pondered whether to call for Crowley, but thought that perhaps if her main aim was not to give her position away that shouting might not be the best tactic. So, she stepped, slowly and carefully towards the staircase, amazed at how soundlessly she could move.

She paused at the top of the stairs, holding her breath as she caught a glimpse of two dark figures moving along the corridor, the arc of brightness from a flashlight picking out the various ornaments and pictures on the walls. Then there was a voice.

"So, you found me then." It was Crowley. It seemed the minute he spoke, his guards materialised, seeming to ooze out of the shadows at the bottom of the stairway below her. Feeling safer now she pressed on down the stairs. The intruders were two men, one tall, one much shorter. Crowley was smiling at them, seeming greatly amused by the whole situation. Alex moved closer, standing just beside one of the guards who barely spared her a glance. She was so close now that she could see the light glinting off the cruel looking blade the shorter man was holding. Then there were gunshots. Alex closed her eyes and, after a moment of stunned silence, she found herself being held against someone, something cold and hard at her throat.

"What about this one, Crowley? You gonna shoot this one too?"

Alex stared at Crowley in shock, nudging the dead guard on the floor in front of her with her foot. Crowley just smiled, "Nope."

The shorter man shifted position slightly, the knife pressing harder against her skin, "So, what is she then? Girlfriend?"

Crowley met her eyes for a brief moment and then sighed, shook his head, "No. She's my apprentice."

The man laughed, "Nice work if you can get it. But I can't really pass up the opportunity of getting rid of another Crossroads demon, now can I?"

"She's not actually a demon. Not yet. But, by all means, knock yourself out." Crowley turned away, heading towards his study.

The man behind her moved the knife away from her throat, pointed it at Crowley's back, "Hey, where do you think you're going? I'll kill her, I mean it."

Crowley turned, glanced at her, shrugged. Then he turned his back to them again, pushing open the door to the study, "I've already told you, I don't care, do what you want with the little whore. There's plenty more where she came from." He turned back, "Afterwards, I assume you have things you want to discuss with me. I'll be in here."

Alex stared at the empty doorway for a moment, before closing her eyes and waiting for the inevitable. There was another pause, and then she found herself hurled roughly against a wall where she cracked her head so hard she could almost imagine the bruise now. And then she was alone, crouching against the wall at the foot of the stairs, with three dead guards clustered around her feet.

(later)

Crowley stood outside her door for a moment, straightened his tie, and then knocked. The door opened almost instantly, just wide enough for her to stick her face through and check who it was. He took in the large purplish bruise just above her eyes and sighed. "I just thought I'd come and let you know that our visitors are gone. So, feel free to continue whatever it was you were doing when you were wandering around the corridors in the dark by yourself."

Alex didn't respond to his comment, instead just shaking her head, "When are you going to start telling me what's going on?"

He nodded, _that was fair, I probably deserved that. _He thought for a moment, unsure as to the last time he had trusted anyone enough to let them in on one of his plans. He tried to balance in his mind how much she needed to know and how much it was safe for her to know if one of Lucifer's loyalists ever got their hands on her. He sighed again, deciding that it didn't really matter anyway, whether she knew anything or not they'd still find a way to break her if they really wanted to. He nodded his head at the room behind her, "Can I come in?"

He stepped past her, taking in the made-up bed and the small bag perched neatly on the end of it. He noticed that the clothes he'd provided her with were no longer hanging in the wardrobe. "Going somewhere, were we?"

Alex nodded, "I thought about it. But then, I did promise to stay for another week. Maybe you should consider this my notice period."

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Whatever suits. Anyway, you wanted the truth. Sit down, the truth doesn't come easily to me, this might take awhile." He waited until she'd sat down next to him on the bed, "Right, when I showed you around Hell, I didn't show you the last circle because Lucifer isn't in it. He should be, but he's not. He escaped his cage some time ago, and he's now free, in this world."

Alex opened her mouth, "So…."

"Yep. That means we currently have a bit of an apocalypse issue on our hands. This is not a good thing. The fact a lot of our kind don't seem to remember is that Lucifer is an angel. Angels don't tend to like demons that much. Hence, if Lucifer wins…"

"We're all screwed." She whispered softly.

Crowley glanced at her, "That's one way of putting it yes." He looked at the packed bag again, "I want to stop him. Those men, the ones downstairs, they do too. That gun I showed you; I've given it to them."

Alex looked at him, "You're helping humans to kill the devil." She looked down at her hands, "This is why you were talking about betraying me, isn't it?"

He nodded, "If you're here working with me, you'll never be safe. If they find out what I've done, which they will, you'll be implicated, hunted, forever." He shrugged, "I feel like I should have told you this before you agreed to come with me, but, in my experience, that's not the best way to make a deal."

"Crowley," she whispered, turning to look at him in the semi-darkness, "you're a dick."

"Probably true."


	5. The Lessons Begin

Alex held tightly to the blankets, groaning in frustration as they were pulled away anyway, leaving her skin exposed to the early morning air. She felt tiny goosepimples start to form on her arms, so she sat up and wrapped her arms around herself. "Crowley, what are you doing?"

"Come on sleepy head! Rise and shine, we have work to do." He grinned at her from the doorway.

She shook her head, pushing back a stray piece of hair, "I already told you, I don't want to work the Crossroads."

He nodded, "You also told me that you were working your notice. So, I'm sure as hell going to get some work out of you before you go." He flicked a hand towards the curtains and they flew open, bathing them both in dazzling light. He smiled, not unkindly, as she screwed her eyes up, her hand inadvertently moving to her head to prod at the bruise she'd acquired last night. He pointed at a cup he'd placed on the dresser, "I made you a drink. I thought you might need one."

She groaned again, before dragging herself away from the bed and towards the steaming mug of coffee he'd indicated, "Fine. What are we doing today?"

The demon watched her drink, "Well, this morning you have How To Be A Crossroads Demon 101." He smiled as she rolled her eyes and took another sip, "If you do really well at that I thought we could perhaps arrange a special after-school class on Sealing the Deal." He winked at her, just to make sure she understood, then turned and left the room.

"Pig," she muttered, taking another sip of coffee. Then, as she began to paw through the clothes in the dresser she shouted after him, "Y'know we're really going to have to talk about these comments you keep making. You're making me feel very uncomfortable."

Crowley poked his head back round the door frame, "Duly noted. I'll pencil that discussion in for after our late night seminar on More Creative Ways to Seal the Deal – for Advanced Practitioners."

(later)

They watched the boy from behind a tree. Watched him stand up after he'd buried the box, watched him look around, jumping at every birdcall, every snap of branches in the woods around him. Alex turned to Crowley, "So, what now?"

He looked at her, and nodded his head towards where the boy was standing, "Go get 'em, tiger." Then he shoved her, and she fell headlong into the boy's line of sight. She desperately wanted to run back behind the tree, but the boy had already seen her and she could feel Crowley's eyes burning into her head. She took a breath and walked forwards, stopping at the small mound of earth where he had buried the box. She stared into his startled, slightly watery eyes, "What can I do for you?"

The boy opened his eyes, but no words came out. He simply stared at her; from time to time his eyes travelled down her body and back up again. He gulped, his adam's apple bobbing in his scrawny throat. Alex knew then what his problem was: girls, or more precisely, not having one. It was obvious from the way he was looking at her. Crowley had practically forced her to wear the tightest dress and highest heels in the wardrobe; not one to dress up normally, she'd felt like a hooker, but when she looked in the mirror even Alex had had to admit that she looked pretty good. Now, the whole situation was making her feel decidedly uncomfortable.

She knelt down at the boy's feet, unearthing the box and pulling out a photograph of a young woman with curly blonde hair, blue eyes, surrounded by friends. Alex looked at him, "She's pretty. What's her name?"

"Katherine." He finally found the courage to meet her eyes, "She doesn't even know I exist."

Alex could remember feeling like that. She remembered entire summers where she would pine after some boy in one of her classes, imagine how much better her life would be if they were together, imagine him confessing his undying love to her; only to move on to someone else the moment school started again. She sighed and shook her head, "You don't need my help with this."

She heard an intake of breath and a sharp cough from behind her. It was Crowley, standing with his hands in his pockets, glaring at her. He turned his gaze on the boy, "I'm sorry, kid. My colleague here is new; we all have to start learning somewhere. One very important lesson, Alex, the customer is always right." He took the photograph from Alex, glancing at it, "Very nice. You want her, you can have her."

Alex shook her head; looking at the boy, "Don't listen. You don't need to sell your soul for this. Trust me."

The boy looked at the lady in the black dress and the man with the pitch black eyes as they glared at each other; not entirely certain what he should do. Eventually his sense of self-preservation took over and he ran, as fast as he could, leaving Crowley grasping a clump of flannel material from his shirt.

Alex stared after him, whistling, "Kid's fast."

Crowley whirled round, bring the back of his hand across his face, "What is wrong with you?"

She landed on the ground in a graceless heap, blood from her split lip spilling down the front of her dress. "You made a mistake with me, Crowley. I'm not a demon, like you said, I still know right from wrong, like you said. That, that deal was wrong." She stood up, facing him, "How can you expect me to make these deals when I'm still closer to being human than I will ever be to being like you?"

He glared at her, "And here was me expecting you to do it out of sheer bloody gratitude to me for saving you from a lifetime of torment! Maybe I shouldn't have bloody bothered!"

She'd never heard him sound so angry. Alex stared at him; his face red and his eyes still black. It was only now that she could admit to herself that talking to Crowley when he was like this was terrifying. There was nothing good left in him when he was like this. Nobody, nothing mattered to him, just finding an outlet for his rage.

Suddenly, he grabbed her arm, "You're going to try again, and this time you're going to do it right." She blinked and they were in another clearing; this time Crowley was standing beside her smiling at the woman in front of them as if nothing had happened. Alex looked at the woman, who was staring back at her expectantly. Before Alex had chance to open the box, the woman was talking, "My sister is marrying a man don't want he to marry. Tomorrow. I want you to stop it. I want you to stop it and get him to marry me instead."

Alex stared at the woman, wide-eyed, "You'd do that to your own sister?" Before the final word had left her mouth she found herself back in Crowley's library, alone. She sighed, letting her hands drop to her sides limply. "Damn."

(later)

She was curled up on her bed, reading, when the door flew open and banged against the wall. She stared at him for a moment, expecting him to speak and so not quite expecting it when he simply walked towards her and dragged her off the bed, pulling her towards the door. When he starting pulling her down the corridor, he yanked so hard her shoulder popped out of its socket and she screamed as a wave of pain shot through her arm.

Crowley pushed her against the wall, "You really let me down today, Alex." He put his face closer to hers, so she could look into his eyes, "I know what you think of me. You think I'm a monster. But, trust me, compared to some of the other demons you could have run into, I'm a walk in the park."

Alex stared at him, tried to stop the tears falling but her arm was too painful.

He glared at her, remembering their deal. She'd been so earnest, so aware of how important it was to get it exactly right that she'd written her deal down. She hadn't even spoken to him for the first ten minutes; just letting him read what she'd written. He'd even amended it slightly for her, showing her how she could get a better deal. He remembered that she'd smiled at him and that she'd cried. Over the last few days it had become important to him that she made it in this new job; she was right, she didn't deserve what awaited her in Hell.

"What are you going to do?" Her voice was quiet, thick with tears.

He sighed, "I'm sending you to Alistair." She looked at him blankly; "Just a few months with him, and then I'll come and get you. You'll still be human. I just need you to see why I offered this to you. I need you to understand."

Alex nodded, sniffed, "Fine." She pushed herself away from him and began to walk towards the stairs, cradling her arm against her.

Crowley watched her, "This is the last thing I want to do. You should know that. If you can just…give me anything, some sign that things will work out as they are, then we don't have to go."

She turned to look at him, frowning, "I have nothing left to give you. I've already given you everything."

"Alex…"

"I'm ready to go. Now."


	6. Accidents Happen

Accidents Happen

It was the screaming Alex heard first as they approached the door, but what came after was so much worse. The voice, she couldn't tell if it was male or female, was begging, pleading for someone to stop, to let them go. She stopped about ten paces in front of the door, feeling Crowley's hand move to her arm.

He leaned closer, "We don't have to do this. All you need to do is promise me you'll come back and do the bloody job. That's all I'm asking." He paused, "You don't need to be like me. I just need you to make the deals." He could feel her trembling as the screams continued, "We're not all bad. Remember when you made your deal. I'm not a monster, and neither will you be."

Alex turned to look at him and he noticed the tears running down her face, "I…"

"Crowley, how nice of you to visit me. To what do I owe the pleasure?" The voice sent chills down Alex's spine and she glanced up at Crowley.

"Alistair. Wish I could say the same. Just passing through, really." He put his hand back on Alex's shoulder, looking down at her.

"Oh, so, you haven't brought me someone new, then? Because you know I always appreciate fresh meat."

Crowley stared at Alex, who looked back at him like a deer caught in headlights. He raised his eyebrows. She sighed, torn between her convictions and her instinctive fear of the demon standing behind her. Finally she nodded at Crowley, whispering, "Fine. I'll do it. Just don't leave me here with him."

Crowley looked at Alistair and shrugged, "'Fraid not."

Alistair sighed, "That's a shame. But it looks like you're doing a good enough job as it is; that's a nasty looking injury to her shoulder."

Crowley looked down at her, "Well, accidents happen."

She heard a door close behind them and let out a shaky breath, realising how close she'd been to ending up on the rack. Crowley too felt a strange sense of relief flood through him; he'd seen people after two months with Alistair and he'd thought long and hard about how Alex would have been after that. Something different. Something much worse than she could ever imagine being.

"Don't let me down again, ok." He muttered and turned to begin the walk back to his house, back out of Hell.

(later)

Alex swung her feet as she perched on the kitchen table, glass in hand, steadily sipping at the drink Crowley had given her. She winced as he placed his hand on her shoulder, "I suppose we should get this sorted out really." He said, examining the joint carefully, "Sorry about that, by the way. I was angry."

She nodded, smiling slightly as the alcohol took effect. She looked around the dimly lit room, studied the old oak surface of the table she was sitting on; she'd never thought she'd be so happy to be back in Crowley's house. Alex looked at him as he placed one hand against her dislocated shoulder blade, exerted a slight pressure that almost made her cry out. "This will hurt." He said, matter-of-factly.

She swallowed the rest of her drink and held the glass out to him, "More, please."

Crowley smiled slightly, pouring more alcohol into her empty glass, "Usually I wouldn't be wasting my best Scotch on an apprentice. You should count yourself lucky."

Alex swallowed the drink quickly, placing the glass down next to her on the table, "Or maybe deep down you just like me better than any of your other apprentices." She chuckled to herself slightly.

Crowley just nodded, repositioning his hands, "Ok, after three." She felt him press down on the bone again, "One…" Then he wrenched her arm, causing her to cry out in pain, but very efficiently popping the shoulder blade back into position.

She glared at him, one hand holding her arm, which was still throbbing dully, "I knew you'd do something like that."

He picked up the Scotch, carefully pouring some more into her glass, "There, that should take the edge off." He watched her carefully manoeuvre her way off the table, and take another drink. She swayed slightly as she tried to step away from the table, and then thought better of it and leaned back against it, closing her eyes. "Although, I don't think you should have any more. You're well on your way to being blind drunk."

Alex laughed, and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "Yes, I am. But don't try and pretend that wasn't at least partially your plan in the first place."

Crowley held his hands up in mock surrender, "So, does it increase my chances at all?"

She laughed hysterically and whilst she was bent over trying to regain her breath, he poured more Scotch into her glass. "No really, does it?"

Alex just smiled at him, licked her lips, and took another drink. "Sod this," he muttered, moving in front of her and pulling her glass away. He put his hands round her face and lowered his mouth onto hers. He was surprised when she leaned against him instead of pulling back, although he wasn't sure whether she'd done it because she wanted him to keep kissing her or because she was too drunk to stand up straight. His question was answered when she raised herself onto her toes, pressing her body closer. Crowley ran a hand through her hair, feeling the slight dampness from where the spots of rain had landed as they entered the house.

As quickly as it had started she pulled away, stared up at him for a moment, "I never said thank you for helping me. When I made the deal. You're right; you helped me make it better. So, thank you."

He frowned, "Is that why you kissed me?"

"_You_ kissed _me_." She said, quietly.

"Technically true." He looked at her, his hand still in her hair, "Look, I wanted to make the deal with you. I saw no reason to screw you over, so I helped. End of."

Alex nodded, wiping her face as an involuntary tear rolled down her cheek, "I'm sorry. I'm just really drunk."

He moved back, "Well then you should go to bed." He started to move glasses and cups to the sink to be washed, "But just remember what I said; to do this job, you need to make the deals, but you don't have to be cruel. In fact, I don't want you to be. These people get ten years and then unimaginable torment; you owe it to them to make their end of the bargain good."

She watched him moving around the kitchen and the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, "I enjoyed that by the way. What we just did."

Crowley stopped, his back still turned away from her, "Me too."


	7. Enjoy The Silence

Alex stared at herself in the mirror; took in her pallid, slightly greenish complexion, and felt somewhat comforted by the knowledge that alcohol was still a major source of embarrassment in her life even now she was, technically, not alive. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to drink enough to erase her memory of what had happened between her and Crowley. As she began to search her memory banks for a lame excuse for her flirtatious behaviour, she heard the door open behind her. She turned around, wide-eyed to stare at Crowley.

He raised his hands in supplication, "Ok, ok, I'll be a minute and then you can get back to whatever it is you were doing." He smiled, "So, I thought, to prevent any unwarranted awkwardness I would just say it."

She continued to stare at him, and if anything her eyes stretched even wider, "Say what?"

"That it was entirely understandable."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned against the sink, eyebrows curled cynically upwards. "Oh yeah? How'd you figure that?"

Crowley rolled his eyes, "Well, you were drunk. I'm irresistible. It was inevitable. "He shrugged. "That's all that needs to be said."

Alex shook her head, "It is?"

The demon raised his eyebrows, and stared at her. In his mind there was a tiny voice in his head, chanting, _Awkward, awkward, awkward! Why can't she just bloody let it go?_

She sighed again, "Ok." He turned to walk away, but stopped when he heard her mumble, almost to herself, "But, last night, you said…"

Crowley nodded, "I enjoyed it. Yes." He threw her a smile and a wink, "anytime, darlin'."

With that he left her gaping at the now empty doorway. Even through the drunken haze that was her memory of last night, she'd felt certain that Crowley hadn't been messing about when he'd kissed her. She remembered the way she'd let him keep topping up her drink, how warm his hands had felt on her skin and how strangely exciting she had found it. She also remembered asking him whether it hadn't been his intention all along to get her drunk.

The sound of a woman laughing drifted up the stairs and shattered like glass against Alex's sensitive eardrums. Crowley was right, she had been drunk and it was fun, but what more could she ask from him? What more did she want? Not that it really mattered anymore, but Crowley wasn't exactly the type of guy you'd take home to introduce to your parents. She grimaced inwardly as she imagined the conversation, _"Mom, this is Crowley." "Oh, hello dear, and what is it that you do?" Long uncomfortable pause, broken eventually by Crowley's smarmy sarcasm, "I'm in sales."_

Alex shook herself, splashed cold water on her face and left the bathroom, heading for the stairs and the sound of another woman's laughter.

She found them in the study and the woman standing next to Crowley was breathtakingly beautiful, just as her musical laughter had promised she would be. The woman turned to look at her as she entered the room and smiled a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Hello, you must be Alex. Crowley was just telling me about your little…adventure, last night." She rolled her eyes, "Don't take it too seriously; he always has had a thing for the ladies, and he tends to be a bit…." She made some kind of obscene gesture with her hands, "grabby."

Alex had no idea what she could say in reply that wouldn't sound ridiculous, and so she just smiled and nodded; a tactic that had served her well in embarrassing social situations throughout her life. Her eyes flicked backwards and forwards between Crowley and the woman.

He glanced at her dismissively and nodded at the woman, "This is Isabella, and she's taking over your teaching."

Again she employed the smile and nod. At least now she had confirmation that she wasn't the only one feeling awkward about last night. Considering her performance last time Crowley had let her loose on the crossroads now was a damn strange time to be passing her on to someone else. She noticed his eyes still linger on her for a moment before he turned away, muttering, "Get changed. You look like a tramp."

Alex turned and left the room, her eyes stinging. All her life she'd been put down by everyone, her family, friends, teachers, employers and all her life she'd taken it; stayed silent like a little mouse because she was frightened of annoying people, of losing their approval. She swiped a hand across her face to wipe away her tears. It was only when her eyes immediately started to water again that she became aware of an acrid, burning smell drifting into the hallway. Alex was pleased for a moment that perhaps it wasn't solely Crowley's insult that had reduced her to tears, but as wreaths of smoke began to billow into the hallway she realised that smoke and a smell of burning were usually good indications that something was on fire. She glanced back at the study, trying to convince herself that she didn't owe them anything, that she should just use this chance to slip away quietly. But she was already turning back. Her hand was on the door handle when she heard the loud splintering sound of wood and a crash behind her.

When she saw his face it told her everything she needed to know. This was happening because of what he'd done and this was the moment he'd betray her, as he'd told her he would. She felt a draft on her neck, coming from the now open front door, and turned; the sudden stillness behind her told her she was now alone. Someone back-handed her across the face and she tasted her own blood before she hit the floor. Looking up she found herself gazing at a tiny woman, with long dark hair and deep brown eyes, her smile was almost friendly, "Hey sweetie, " she murmured, before kicking Alex into unconsciousness.

The first thing she noticed was the smell of sulphur. "Oh Hell…" she muttered.

"Yes, home sweet home." Her eyes flicked open at the sound of the voice. She almost laughed at her predicament; even if Crowley hadn't directly handed her over, she'd still ended up on Alistair's table because of him. She peered at the demon, "Haven't you heard, I have a contract, I'm exempt from torture." She laughed, laying her head back against the well-worn table.

"Yes," he hissed, and made an incision in her thigh with a blade so sharp she barely even felt it, "well, word has it that your boss has been a very bad boy."

For the second time in a short period of time she felt her eyes fill with tears as he began to pour salt over the wound. Now, that did hurt, it really hurt. She tried to grit her teeth, but to no avail, and as her mouth opened to let out scream she tasted the salt from her tears on her tongue and, as much as she hated him, she found herself thinking of Crowley.

(later)

He went back; of course he did, and sat amongst the still smouldering embers of his house. She wasn't there. He guessed it was a sign of how sick his mind was that he'd been hoping they'd just beat her senseless, abuse her, break her, something he could fix; anything but take her away from him. He sighed, thinking about the previous night. It had been fun, but he was beginning to wonder whether that was all it was. She had felt so _warm, _so responsive, and she wasn't afraid of him, at least she didn't seem to be.

He couldn't remember who had stopped the kiss, but he found himself wishing that it hadn't stopped. Maybe if he'd continued, if he'd allowed himself to feel whatever it was he was feeling for her, he wouldn't be alone now clutching a bottle of whisky. The alcohol burned across his lips, but drinking it alone felt somehow wrong now. Behind him he heard the muffled crunch of footsteps across the debris of his old home, "Hello Crowley."

He gulped some more of the amber liquid straight from the bottle as he turned to face her, "Meg, what pleasure," he smiled, " although, I have to say, if this scenario were playing out the other way around I personally would have maintained the element of surprise, crept up behind you and bashed your friggin' head in!"

She smiled at him, all sickly-sweetness and fake niceties, "Crowley, I don't want to kill you. I just thought you might like to know that either she really doesn't know anything or your little whore is a lot tougher than she looks."

Crowley shrugged, hoping he'd managed to hide the sense of satisfaction he felt that Alex was still alive and still seemingly had some kind of loyalty to him.

Meg was closer now and he could smell her meat-suits cloying perfume as it wrapped around him, she glanced up at him, "She sure is attached to you though Crowley."

Again he shrugged, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he repeated the same line he'd used on Alex earlier in the day, "What can I say? I'm irresistible."

She laughed and leaned closer. Her words echoed in his ear long after she'd gone, "I'm just wondering whether the feelings might be mutual."


	8. Uneasy Alliances

Alex could hear someone screaming. She assumed it was her. Every so often the screaming would stop and someone, a woman, would ask her a question she couldn't answer. Always about Crowley. Then a starburst of agony would explode somewhere on or in her body and the screaming would start again. She hadn't opened her eyes for a long time, hadn't wanted to see whether her body was the unrecognisable mess she assumed it would be. She could smell her own blood, parts of her own flesh burning. Still the questions came, but they were getting quieter, further away.

It reminded her of the time she had watched her mother speaking to one of the doctors outside her sister's room in the hospital. They had been standing too far away for her to make out the words, the conversation had been muffled:

_Alex watched her mother's face crumple, and then shatter into a million pieces as the tears rolled down her face; unabated by the false hope that had kept them at bay for so long. The doctor shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other, uncertain what the correct reaction to such a display of emotion should be. Alex's fingernails dug crescent-moons into the Styrofoam cup of coffee she'd just got from the machine down the corridor, but there was no warmth beneath her fingers at all. She moved towards her mother as the doctor decided to leave, only to be shoved backwards roughly against the wall of the paediatric ward, which was painted with rainbows and flowers. Alex wrapped her arms around herself instead momentarily, and then moved towards the window set into the door of her sister's room. _

_The tiny little bundle huddled in the bed was her sister, Karen. Karen was 9. Karen had leukaemia. She desperately needed a bone marrow transplant from a member of her family and, from the look on the doctor's face a moment before, it seemed like she wasn't a match either. Mercifully she was sedated, because seeing the sheer terror in her eyes every moment that she was awake was more than Alex could handle. She needed to do something. _

_And she did; it's amazing what you can find on the internet when you look, even instructions for summoning a demon and selling your soul. Alex buried the box, the earth crumbling between her fingers, and then she waited pulling her coat around herself against the cool night air. And he arrived. She thrust the piece of paper she'd written her request on at him; refusing to speak for fear that she would begin to cry. She watched him read and when he'd finished he stared at her with such intensity that she bit her lip, drawing blood. He shook his head, sighed and under his breath muttered, "Bloody hell…"_

_He looked from the piece of paper to her and back again a few times before nodding, "If this is what you want, I can do this, but…" he moved besides her, pointing at her request, "we can make this a better deal."_

_Alex watched in astonishment as he pointed out certain phrases and words, "We need to make this much tighter. You need to specify exactly what you want. Like here," he pulled a pen from his top pocket and began to write over her words, "you need to say "full remission", "a long, healthy, happy life, blah, blah, blah". He made several changes and then handed her the sheet of paper. "What do you think?"_

_She read it again and nodded, once, "Yes, thank you, that's much better." She shuffled her feet, "What happens now?"_

_He shrugged, "Nothing special. Just a kiss, and then we're done." She nodded and he leaned down to take her face between his hands. He was right, it was nothing special; when he kissed her it was perfunctory, business like. He pulled away, smiled, and then he disappeared. _

_And the next day, Karen went into remission._

The smell of perfume weaving around her brought her back to the present and she groaned as she heard the familiar woman's voice close to her ear, "Alex, Alex, Alex, it really doesn't have to be like this. We know you had nothing to do with Crowley's plan to help those bastards kill Lucifer. You don't need to suffer for him. I have a proposition to put to you, but I'll let you rest first."

Alex sighed through her own broken teeth and bloody gums as she heard footsteps moving away from her; a door opening and then closing. She opened her eyes, but closed them almost instantaneously. There was nothing left of her, everything was red, red and wet.

Crowley watched Isabella as she padded around her bedroom naked and tried to pretend that what they'd just done hadn't left him feeling totally cold inside. She smiled at him and returned to the bed, leaning across him and stroking his chest, "So, now you're looking for another apprentice, there are some girls I know that would be ideal and I'm sure they'd kill for a chance to work with the King of the Crossroads."

He smiled, gritted his teeth and reached for the mandatory glass of some kind of spirit he kept next to him at all times.

Isabella narrowed her eyes. She knew when she'd been used, but she was smart and she could read Crowley like a book. She looked up at him through her eyelashes, "If it helps I could pretend to be her." When he looked up she'd changed, it was like having Alex sitting on the bed staring back at him. He reached up to touch her hair, and then thought better of it and took another sip of his drink.

Isabella dropped her mask and flounced around the room for a while, putting her clothes back on and rummaging around in her bag. She muttered something about not letting the door hit him in the ass on his way out and then left. He frowned, sipping his drink; since when did people think they could speak to him like that?

He closed his eyes and sighed. He had to do something.

Alex sipped at the drink the woman held to her mouth. It was cool, and it numbed her throat which was raw from screaming. The woman's name was Meg, and she was stroking Alex's hand comfortingly as she drank and, despite her best efforts, Alex was grateful. Meg bent to put her mouth against Alex's ear, "Work for us, Alex, and all of this can stop right now. Crowley left you to take the fall for a plan you had nothing to do with, but we know that now and we don't want to hurt you anymore. You don't need to be sorry, Crowley manipulated you. It's what he's good at."

Alex felt a tear roll down her cheek and felt surprised. She had thought she had no tears left in her.

Meg held the cup to Alex's lips again, "You don't have to stay here. In fact, we don't want you to. We'll let you go. All you need to do is find him, or let him find you. And then report back to us."

Alex coughed, choked on the liquid, "Like a spy?"

The demon screwed her face up a little as she considered, "Kind of. But, don't worry; I know you have …loyalties towards Crowley. Lord knows the little worm does have his charms. You don't actually need to _do_ anything to him. Just find him and tell us where he is. We'll do the rest."

"And if I don't?"

Meg sniffed delicately, "Well in that case I guess I would have to leave you to play with Alistair and his toys for a bit longer."

Alex stared at her, "And if you let me go, I find him and then I just don't bother reporting back to you?"

The demon leaned over the table, "Don't even think about it. Do you seriously think we wouldn't be able to find you again? And when we got you back here, we'd make this trip seem like a luxury spa break."

Alex's nose was almost touching Meg's. She smiled, "Well, I guess I'd better do as you say, then."

"Good. I'm glad we have an understanding."

Crowley smiled at the Winchesters who looked, probably understandably, quite irritated with him. They were both pointing guns at him anyway. He held his hands up, "Look, boys, I honestly didn't know that the gun wouldn't kill him."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, right, like we're gonna believe that."

Crowley shook his head, "It's not like I had much chance to test it out before giving it to you, is it? Also, it may not have escaped your notice that his lot burnt by sodding house down. That probably suggests that they're not all that happy with me, doesn't it you morons?!"

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, stupidly. Both kept their guns trained on Crowley, "So, what are you doing here now?"

He placed his hands together and plastered his best Crossroads smile across his face, "Well, I thought we could come to some kind of mutually satisfying arrangement. Namely, I help you deal with this whole Horsemen issue and you help me get my apprentice back."

Dean lowered his gun, " I remember her. What was it you called her now…..oh yeah, "the little whore". Charming."

Crowley flinched slightly at the memory, "Yes, well, are you going to help or not?"

Sam followed suit and lowered his gun, "Just what exactly can you offer us that's going to help us deal with the Horsemen?"

Crowley rubbed his hands together and gestured at three rickety looking chairs in the middle of the room, ushering them to sit down, "Good. Let's talk business."


	9. Reunited

And so, Alex was released from Hell, good as new, with only a slight limp in her step that eased with each passing day and a new cell phone in her back pocket. A direct line to Meg, her new employer. Of course, after searching the remains of the burnt out husk of Crowley's old home and, predictably, finding him gone, Alex found herself flat out of ideas about where to find him. So she went to the first place she'd met him. The crossroads where she had made her deal.

She stared at the spot through the smeared windshield of her rental car and soon felt a solitary tear roll down her cheek. While she was laid out on Alistair's table, and for a few days just after she was released, Alex had tried to convince herself that she wished she'd never met Crowley; that it would be easy to betray him, just as he had betrayed her. But in this moment, as she stared at the spot of ground where she'd made her deal, she remembered her mother's face when the doctors had told her Karen had gone into remission, remembered the little, strangled gasp of joy and relief she'd made, and she _knew _that she couldn't do it. However, just as strong, was the memory of the feeling of having her insides revealed, unprotected to the air and to any number of sharp implements Alistair had jabbed into them, and in her heart she knew that she _had _to do it because she wouldn't survive that again.

She looked down at the box resting on her lap. She'd prepared it exactly the way she'd done it the first time. Another tear fell onto its varnished surface as she shook her head. Would this even work? Was it even possible for someone who had already had their soul collected to summon a Crossroads demon? And, if someone did come, would it be Crowley? And, since Crowley was obviously all too aware that most of the denizens of Hell were after him, would he be answering requests and making deals at all?

She pushed the car door open, summoning all the resolve she had. This had to work. She could not make another phone call to Meg and admit she was no further towards finding Crowley than she had been two weeks ago. Alex thrust her hands into the dirt, digging a hole as deep as she could. She deposited the box, covered it and walked away, returning to lean against the car whilst she waited. Before she reached it, she heard a voice.

"Well, if it isn't little Alex. You certainly made an impression on Crowley, didn't you? Not even my ample charms could distract him, not for long anyway."

Alex closed her eyes, swallowed the rising panic in her throat and turned, plastering a smile on her face, "Isabella, nice to see you again. Funny you should mention Crowley; I was actually hoping to see him."

Isabella sauntered towards Alex, standing far too close for comfort, "Oh, I know you were, honey. Unfortunately, none of us have seen Crowley for the past month or so. It's like he just vanished into thin air. Rumour has it that he was so cut up after the death of his apprentice that he decided to quit his position in Hell and run off to some nice secluded spot to spend the rest of his days alone and drunk. Of course, there's also the small matter that there's a price on his head. But, I think you already know that." Isabella smiled sweetly, and turned to walk away.

"Please, I really need to find him, Isabella. So, please, if you know anything about where he is, tell me."

Isabella laughed and walked back towards Alex. She shook her head, "You're so earnest, aren't you? It really is disgusting." She scowled and then crossed her arms, appearing to come to a decision. "Y'know, I really don't know where Crowley is. But, I am going to help you out. Y'see, despite seeming all sweetness and light, I know that you don't want to go back on that table, so I also know what you're going to have to do when you find him. And, boy, I cannot wait to see him get a taste of his own medicine."

Alex frowned, "How can you help me if you don't know where he is?"

Isabella wagged a finger in Alex's face, "I have my ways, dear. I have lots of eyes and ears around, finding out the latest information, you see, and a little bird tells me that lately Crowley has been awful friendly with a couple of demon hunters, go by the name of Sam and Dean Winchester."

Alex thought back to the night that two men had broken into the house. Crowley had given them the gun he'd showed her, they were helping him. Sam and Dean?

The puzzled look on Alex's face seemed to amuse Isabella greatly, "I know, it doesn't make sense does it? A demon shacked up with two demon hunters? The things we do for love, huh? Anyway," Isabella pointed at Alex's car, "I was thinking I could help with your transport situation. You're one of us now, sweetheart. You don't want to be riding around in that old bucket of rust. Plus it'll take you days to get to where the Winchester's are in that. What say I speed things up a bit for you?" With that she raised her hand, clicked her fingers.

And Isabella was somewhere new. Three men were staring at her; one taller, one shorter, one older.

"Hey Sammy, check it out, it's the little whore." The shorter one laughed, and shook his head.

Alex crossed her arms in front of her, shuffling from one foot to the other nervously, "That's a little rude, you know."

The short one looked at her again, the smile fading quickly, "Not my words, darlin'. Anyway, that's a bit rich coming from a demon who just Houdini'd her way into our home uninvited. So forgive me for not rolling out the welcome mat."

Alex shook her head, "I'm not a demon. Not really. Not yet." Her voice faded away to a mumble as they continued to study her, "You're the Winchester's right? I'm looking for Crowley. Have you seen him?"

And, faster than she could blink, she found herself strapped to a chair being tortured. Again. Although, she had to admit, this wasn't too bad; so far all that the shorter one, who had identified himself as Dean, had done was to throw a lot of holy water at her. She sighed, "Will you stop that? I told you, I'm not a demon, haven't been in hell long enough. Don't you know anything?"

He laughed at her, "About hell? More than you know, sweetheart." He grabbed a vicious looking knife off a nearby table and walked towards her, "What sort of a thing have you got going on with Crowley?"

She looked down, bit her lip, "He…he's my employer. He was training me."

Dean shook his head, "I don't buy it. Crowley has a lot of employees, and I'm pretty certain he doesn't show this much concern for all of them." He twirled the knife round in his hand, raised his eyebrows. "Want to try again?"

"I made a deal with him, ok? My soul in exchange for my sister's life. She had cancer, she was going to die. I had no choice." Alex kept her head down, she would _not_ get upset in front of these idiots.

The older man stepped forward, placed a hand on her shoulder, "There's always a choice, girl. You didn't need to go getting yourself mixed up with Crowley."

She stared up at him, "If I hadn't have done what I did, my sister, my little sister would be dead. I'd do it all again in a second." She glared at all of them now, but was astonished and frustrated to see what looked like pity etched into their faces as they looked back. "Look, I know you're working with him. Or he's working with you. Or, whatever. I don't know why. Can you just let me know where he is, and I'll let you get on with whatever it is you're doing?"

The tall one, Sam, nodded, "We're expecting him sometime soon. He came to us looking for you, actually. "

Alex paced backwards and forwards, watching the sun go down through the blurry, cracked window. As she paced she held the cell phone Meg had given to her; the number was already on the screen, all she had to do was dial. She closed her eyes and sighed. She didn't really _need_ Crowley to survive in hell, did she? Meg had promised her she'd be forgiven for any part she played in Crowley's betrayal of Lucifer. That had to count for something, right? If she did this, she'd be ok.

So lost in her thoughts, she didn't even notice him enter the room, as flamboyant as ever in another sharp, tailored suit. It was his voice that pulled her back to the present as he roared at the Winchester's "What the bloody hell is she doing here?"


	10. Promises, promises

"We're going to need some time here, boys." Crowley rolled his eyes towards the Winchesters.

Sam simply rolled his eyes, stuffed his hands in his pockets and left the room, but Dean pulled a sickened face, muttering under his breath, "Gross."

Crowley glared at him, raising his eyebrows, "Out. Now."

Alex continued to toy with the phone in her hand, her thumb twitching towards the call button now and again. All she had to do was press it, she didn't have to speak; a simple call would be enough of a signal for Meg…..

"Gimme." She looked up at him, disturbed from her thoughts by his abrupt command. He hadn't come any closer, but was simply staring back at her, his hand outstretched.

"Excuse me?" When he shook his head at her, as though she were some kind of simpleton, she shrugged her shoulders. "Gimme what? A hug? A slap in the face? What is it that you'd like?"

He nodded to the hand grasping the cell phone, "Gimme the phone, darlin'."

Alex looked down, noted that she hadn't yet pressed the call button. She could do it now, if only she could make herself press down on that little green symbol and ….then it was gone. She looked up to see Crowley standing directly in front of her, holding the phone in his hand. He looked at it, noted the number on the screen, and frowned. With a slight glance in her direction, he placed the phone on the floor and proceeded to stamp on it until it resembled a mechanical pancake; totally flat and totally useless. "Well, that settles that." She whispered to herself.

Crowley seemed pleased with himself. "You can thank me properly later. Couldn't have you all stressed out about whether or not to betray me, so I thought I'd do you a favour." He smiled at her, somewhat suggestively, and Alex wondered what he had in mind when he talked about her thanking him properly.

"How did you know?" She shook her head. She hadn't told anybody.

"You forget, my position may be a little…precarious, at the moment, but I know pretty much everything there is to know about what goes on in Hell, darlin'. And, a little birdie told me that you ended up on Alistair's table despite all my best efforts." He paused, looked at her and smiled again, "Sorry about that."

She widened her eyes, about to speak when he cut her off, "Obviously, Meg can be persuasive, and I realised that you might be a …tad angry with me and might decide to hand me over and regret it later. So…" he pointed to the phone on the floor. "Sorry about that, as well."

Alex shook her head at him, "Maybe you could show me how sorry you really are later on." She saw a smile slide on to his face, and she saw red. She pushed him, hard, in the chest, "A tad angry? A tad? You total and utter…dick!" He straightened his tie, but made no move to answer or push her back. "I have absolutely no idea where I stand with you. One minute you threaten to take me to Alistair, act like a total pig towards me when you're supposed to be my boss, oh, and lie to me about a potentially fairly dangerous thing you're about to do that could get you AND ME into trouble and the next you're plying me with alcohol, kissing me and then swooping to my rescue when I get kidnapped. Which, by the way, was your fault!" She stopped to take a breath and stared at him, surprised that he still had nothing to say. "So, Dean asked me earlier, 'what kind of a thing' I have going on with you, and to be honest I didn't know the answer. So, why don't you tell me?"

Crowley raised his eyebrows, "Not sure. Haven't had much chance to think about it. Been busy." He saw her raise her hands again and come towards him, "Ok, ok, so I suppose I like you….or something like that."

"You like me!? Are you kidding? If you like me, I seriously wouldn't want to be someone you hate. Try again."

Crowley glanced to the side, smirked, and looked back at her, "If you like I can show you how much I like you later on."

Alex shook her head, "Promises, promises." Slowly she moved toward the window, sitting on a rickety wooden chair by the wall, "That's great. You still can't give me a straight answer. I should have expected as much. All that bullshit you come out with, 'I'm a demon, blah, blah, I don't understand the difference between right and wrong anymore, blah, blah. It's all just an act isn't it? I'm not sure you know who you really are anymore, Crowley." She stood up to walk past him, stopping to place a hand on his chest as she passed. "You know what; I'd love you to show me how much you really like me later on. Thing is, I don't know whether there will be a later on. There might be someone else you've pissed off enough to want to kidnap and torture me." She began to walk towards the door.

"Wait." She turned and looked at him, "I didn't mean for this to happen." He stopped, considering what he'd just said, "Well, maybe there was a point when I thought it might happen and I wasn't bothered, but ….I was bothered when it did happen. I just…" he sighed, "I just like you! Bloody hell! Why are you making this so hard?"

Alex looked at the floor to hide the smile that crept across her face. She walked towards him, nodding, "Fine. That'll do, for now. So, what happens next?"

He narrowed his eyes, "Is that a 'where is this relationship going?' kind of question? Or, do you mean, literally, 'what do we do next'?" He paused, thinking, "And, if it is a 'what do we do next?' question, are you thinking about 'what do _we_ do next sexually?' or is it, 'what do we do next right at this second?'"

Alex frowned, "Stop it."

"Sorry. Again." He held his hands up in surrender. He looked about the room, "Well, now you're here, there's no reason for us to stay in this hell-hole, forgive the choice of words, with Dumb and Dumber. We could just go."

"Sounds great." The final syllable had just left her lips when she found herself lifted off the floor, spun around and carried to another rickety wooden chair where she was unceremoniously plonked down and tied up. Crowley's protestations sounded mildly funny.

"What the bloody hell do you idiots think you're doing?"

Dean pointed at him accusingly, "You came here asking for help and in exchange you promised to help us with the horsemen. Now, she's back and that's great, and I bet you just can't wait to head off and set up another little love nest somewhere, but you still have to hold up your end of the deal."

Crowley glared at the Winchesters, "Y'know, you're right, there is a love nest that needs setting up fairly urgently, actually….."

The older brother closed his eyes, and shook his head, "Shut up. Unless you want me to be sick, just shut up."

Crowley nodded, "Ok boys, I can help you out, since you were so accommodating to my friend here…."

Dean smiled, "That's good then, cos' she's staying tied in this chair until we're done."

Alex tilted her head, smiling up at Crowley sweetly, "Later on, huh? Promises, promises…."


End file.
